like belly masks of words
I go crazy.
like studdering stars.
Humming sounds of poems
a swarm of bees in a box
like small buds opening with a musical explosion,
breezing scent of an absutraction.
I will wait for the tribulation
midnight tryst in dark
with spooky dreams.
The tune of hallucination has bee set
I am moving from door to door
to search my lost home.
Whom do I belong ?
I or me ? He or anonymom ?
Something has to be done for identity
of rhyme in transimages.
I may go hungry tonight
to invoke the rhythm of bluelight
striations of thoughts and current
through the mind.
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